try begging

Wednesday 2pm, Cafe Dahlia, Dunwich.

Grace had been in Dunwich, a city in the central region, for several days in search of Cafe Dahlia. She had asked taxi drivers and even bought a local phone book to look around, but it seemed she had found the right place.

The middle-aged man sitting behind her was not a man who fit in well in a downtown cafe. Even though it was our first time meeting, he already had the scent of a 'comrade'.

Grace sighed quietly, listening to the noise the man was making behind her.

The top of the pyramid has already collapsed, but those below are still being deceived and deceived. It may be that the members of the leadership who escaped are trying to rebuild the pyramid. The more I learned, the more I realized that it was exactly as my mother said.

There is no separate cult.

She paused as she continued to scan the newspaper. She found another suspicious ad looking for a butcher. Grace took a pencil and notebook out of her handbag.

'Thursday... 10am... .'

At the end of the ad, there were several phone numbers written down. This was a code with each number assigned a letter. Grace, who had memorized the code because she had used it so many times before, immediately started to decipher the code.

"after...."

The moment I deciphered the location, a sigh escaped my lips.

'Really... do I have to go that far this time?'

It was a distance that required more than four hours by train.

'Please gather in one place, okay?'

Just as she was muttering to herself, the waiter came over with a tray containing a cream tea set in one hand. Grace quickly put the newspaper and notebook away in her handbag.

"Here is the cream tea you ordered. If there is anything missing, please let me know."

"thank you."

The tea that the waiter kindly poured for me was just the right shade of red. When I poured the milk in the creamer, white clouds rose up in the red teacup.

'They use good tea leaves.'

I took a sip of the milk tea with lots of sugar and picked up the scone on the plate. The rich smell was fantastic. I cut the warm scone in half and started spreading strawberry jam on one side. The child who danced when he ate sweets started making a fuss in his stomach again.

'Okay. Just wait.'

It was the moment when I took a bite of a scone with a thick layer of clotted cream on top of strawberry jam.

"welcome."

I heard the door opening behind me. I turned my head slightly and, as expected, a young man in clothes that didn't suit this situation was standing in front of the door and looking around.

'You're here.'

As the waiter approached, the young man shook his head and walked over. Grace turned her head again and took another bite of her scone. Behind her, there was a brief conversation about whether she was looking for a butcher, and then the sound of a chair being dragged.

The two of them whispered in lowered voices, but gradually their guard became looser, and they conversed in a voice loud enough for Grace to hear.

'A hungry pregnant woman with a scone in her mouth would not be suspicious or scared at all.'

By the time Grace was spreading jam and cream on the other half of her scone, the conversation was taking a tangent.

"There are three of us, including me."

"It might be cramped and uncomfortable, but we can accommodate three. Where are the other two now?"

"It's about an hour away from here by tram...."

The two men brought the rest of the party with them and made plans to meet again in this area at night, and to conclude the contact. Grace quickly emptied her teacup and took four gold coins out of her purse and placed them on the table.

Grace left before the two of them. She went outside and stood behind the corner of the two buildings, watching the entrance to the cafe. After a while, a young man came out first, walked to the other side, and disappeared.

After about two minutes, a middle-aged man finally appeared outside the cafe. As soon as the man walked towards her, Grace opened her bag and quickly took something out.

As the man turned the corner and brushed past her, Grace turned away and pretended to touch up her makeup.

'Makeup is annoying, really.'

The lipstick on her lips reflected in the compact mirror was noticeable here and there. Grace took out her lipstick and quickly filled in the empty spots, glancing sideways at the end of the alley. The man was leisurely walking somewhere, seemingly unaware that he was being followed.

Grace followed the man, keeping a good distance between them. The shops became increasingly scarce, and clotheslines between buildings began to hang overhead. As expected, the man headed toward a nearby slum.

"Phew... ."

She sighed and stopped. It was dangerous to continue following. The expensive clothes were effective in evading Winston's pursuit, but it was difficult to follow him, especially in the slums.

Grace turned her gaze to the children huddled together on one side of the alley.

"Hey guys."

Children who were playing and drawing something on the street with a piece of chalk in their hand raised their heads this way.

"Did you see the old man who just passed by?"

"yes."

The boy who seemed to be the oldest among the children answered.

"Do you know where I live?"

"He used to come and go from the corner over there all the time."

The child pointed to the corner where the man had disappeared a moment ago. He seemed unaware of anything beyond that.

"Can you run after it and see where it goes? Don't get too close or talk to it."

As I took out a silver coin and held it up, the boy jumped up, shook his hands, and ran towards the corner.

The boy returned shortly afterwards and explained excitedly.

"There's a blue building at the end of that alley. I went in there. But I didn't see which floor I went to."

There was no need to go that far. The military would take care of it anyway, like catching rats.

Grace gave a coin to the boy with sparkling eyes and gave a chocolate bar to each of the children who looked at her with envious eyes.

"Don't tell anyone who asked."

She left the nodding children behind and went out into the downtown area. She went to any bank she could see and entered a phone booth. It was the end of the month, so the bank was crowded, and no one would remember the appearance of a woman who was using the phone at this hour.

"Please connect me to 5214 Berkshire West, Winsford."

Grace dialed a familiar number and added a random name.

"This is Bridget Davis."

After a while, the other person's voice was heard.

[This is the 1st Special Mission Group. How may I help you?]

As always, his speech was full of military tone.

"Hello. I called after seeing the number on the wanted poster. Is this the place that receives reports from rebels?"

Grace asked questions as if she already knew everything, as if it was her first time reporting.

[Yes, that's right.]

"That's because I think someone I know is a rebel."

After that, she gave me a description of the two men she saw in the cafe, the location of their hideout, and the time and place they would meet that night.

As soon as we safely achieved our purpose for coming to Dunwich, we had to leave without even taking a breath. It was only a matter of time before the quick-witted commander of the 1st Special Mission Group figured out the informant's identity.

I went straight to the hotel where I was staying, left my luggage with the concierge, loaded it into a taxi, and headed to the train station. Then I bought a train ticket to my next destination. The train was scheduled to arrive in 30 minutes.

It was too cold to wait outside, so Grace went into the waiting room on the platform. After looking around at the few empty seats, she sat down on a bench in front of a pillar.

"I'll put it here."

"thank you."

The porter who had been carrying my bag since I got out of the taxi placed it neatly on the step. When I gave him a gold coin, the man bowed politely and went out.

All she had was a bag the size of her torso. If she had been single, she could have easily carried it without any help.

"phew...."

Grace lifted her toes, releasing her numb calves and glared at the pillar in front of her.

Mid to late 20s. Blue-green eyes. Small mole under left eye. Slim build. Expecting to give birth in May.

There were flyers posted on the pillars asking for her help.

Grace pushed up her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose and looked around. The old ladies chattering and the middle-aged man shuffling through documents as if he was going on a business trip were all uninterested in Grace.

"What the... what could this be?"

The young woman sitting across from me tilted her head as she read the leaflet, but she had no idea that I could ask the pregnant woman sitting on the same bench about the story.

This is why she wears expensive clothes and puts on flashy makeup. If she looks poor, it is easy to suspect that she is the woman in the leaflet. However, if she is a wealthy woman, she is far from the image of a missing person that usually comes to mind.

Wednesday 2pm, Cafe Dahlia, Dunwich.

Grace had been in Dunwich, a city in the central region, for several days in search of Cafe Dahlia. She had asked taxi drivers and even bought a local phone book to look around, but it seemed she had found the right place.

The middle-aged man sitting behind her was not a man who fit in well in a downtown cafe. Even though it was our first time meeting, he already had the scent of a 'comrade'.

Grace sighed quietly, listening to the noise the man was making behind her.

The top of the pyramid has already collapsed, but those below are still being deceived and deceived. It may be that the members of the leadership who escaped are trying to rebuild the pyramid. The more I learned, the more I realized that it was exactly as my mother said.

There is no separate cult.

She paused as she continued to scan the newspaper. She found another suspicious ad looking for a butcher. Grace took a pencil and notebook out of her handbag.

'Thursday... 10am... .'

At the end of the ad, there were several phone numbers written down. This was a code with each number assigned a letter. Grace, who had memorized the code because she had used it so many times before, immediately started to decipher the code.

"after...."

The moment I deciphered the location, a sigh escaped my lips.

'Really... do I have to go that far this time?'

It was a distance that required more than four hours by train.

'Please gather in one place, okay?'

Just as she was muttering to herself, the waiter came over with a tray containing a cream tea set in one hand. Grace quickly put the newspaper and notebook away in her handbag.

"Here is the cream tea you ordered. If there is anything missing, please let me know."

"thank you."

The tea that the waiter kindly poured for me was just the right shade of red. When I poured the milk in the creamer, white clouds rose up in the red teacup.

'They use good tea leaves.'

I took a sip of the milk tea with lots of sugar and picked up the scone on the plate. The rich smell was fantastic. I cut the warm scone in half and started spreading strawberry jam on one side. The child who danced when he ate sweets started making a fuss in his stomach again.

'Okay. Just wait.'

It was the moment when I took a bite of a scone with a thick layer of clotted cream on top of strawberry jam.

"welcome."

I heard the door opening behind me. I turned my head slightly and, as expected, a young man in clothes that didn't suit this situation was standing in front of the door and looking around.

'You're here.'

As the waiter approached, the young man shook his head and walked over. Grace turned her head again and took another bite of her scone. Behind her, there was a brief conversation about whether she was looking for a butcher, and then the sound of a chair being dragged.

The two of them whispered in lowered voices, but gradually their guard became looser, and they conversed in a voice loud enough for Grace to hear.

'A hungry pregnant woman with a scone in her mouth would not be suspicious or scared at all.'

By the time Grace was spreading jam and cream on the other half of her scone, the conversation was taking a tangent.

"There are three of us, including me."

"It might be cramped and uncomfortable, but we can accommodate three. Where are the other two now?"

"It's about an hour away from here by tram...."

The two men brought the rest of the party with them and made plans to meet again in this area at night, and to conclude the contact. Grace quickly emptied her teacup and took four gold coins out of her purse and placed them on the table.

Grace left before the two of them. She went outside and stood behind the corner of the two buildings, watching the entrance to the cafe. After a while, a young man came out first, walked to the other side, and disappeared.

After about two minutes, a middle-aged man finally appeared outside the cafe. As soon as the man walked towards her, Grace opened her bag and quickly took something out.

As the man turned the corner and brushed past her, Grace turned away and pretended to touch up her makeup.

'Makeup is annoying, really.'

The lipstick on her lips reflected in the compact mirror was noticeable here and there. Grace took out her lipstick and quickly filled in the empty spots, glancing sideways at the end of the alley. The man was leisurely walking somewhere, seemingly unaware that he was being followed.

Grace followed the man, keeping a good distance between them. The shops became increasingly scarce, and clotheslines between buildings began to hang overhead. As expected, the man headed toward a nearby slum.

"Phew... ."

She sighed and stopped. It was dangerous to continue following. The expensive clothes were effective in evading Winston's pursuit, but it was difficult to follow him, especially in the slums.

Grace turned her gaze to the children huddled together on one side of the alley.

"Hey guys."

Children who were playing and drawing something on the street with a piece of chalk in their hand raised their heads this way.

"Did you see the old man who just passed by?"

"yes."

The boy who seemed to be the oldest among the children answered.

"Do you know where I live?"

"He used to come and go from the corner over there all the time."

The child pointed to the corner where the man had disappeared a moment ago. He seemed unaware of anything beyond that.

"Can you run after it and see where it goes? Don't get too close or talk to it."

As I took out a silver coin and held it up, the boy jumped up, shook his hands, and ran towards the corner.

The boy returned shortly afterwards and explained excitedly.

"There's a blue building at the end of that alley. I went in there. But I didn't see which floor I went to."

There was no need to go that far. The military would take care of it anyway, like catching rats.

Grace gave a coin to the boy with sparkling eyes and gave a chocolate bar to each of the children who looked at her with envious eyes.

"Don't tell anyone who asked."

She left the nodding children behind and went out into the downtown area. She went to any bank she could see and entered a phone booth. It was the end of the month, so the bank was crowded, and no one would remember the appearance of a woman who was using the phone at this hour.

"Please connect me to 5214 Berkshire West, Winsford."

Grace dialed a familiar number and added a random name.

"This is Bridget Davis."

After a while, the other person's voice was heard.

[This is the 1st Special Mission Group. How may I help you?]

As always, his speech was full of military tone.

"Hello. I called after seeing the number on the wanted poster. Is this the place that receives reports from rebels?"

Grace asked questions as if she already knew everything, as if it was her first time reporting.

[Yes, that's right.]

"That's because I think someone I know is a rebel."

After that, she gave me a description of the two men she saw in the cafe, the location of their hideout, and the time and place they would meet that night.

As soon as we safely achieved our purpose for coming to Dunwich, we had to leave without even taking a breath. It was only a matter of time before the quick-witted commander of the 1st Special Mission Group figured out the informant's identity.

I went straight to the hotel where I was staying, left my luggage with the concierge, loaded it into a taxi, and headed to the train station. Then I bought a train ticket to my next destination. The train was scheduled to arrive in 30 minutes.

It was too cold to wait outside, so Grace went into the waiting room on the platform. After looking around at the few empty seats, she sat down on a bench in front of a pillar.

"I'll put it here."

"thank you."

The porter who had been carrying my bag since I got out of the taxi placed it neatly on the step. When I gave him a gold coin, the man bowed politely and went out.

All she had was a bag the size of her torso. If she had been single, she could have easily carried it without any help.

"phew...."

Grace lifted her toes, releasing her numb calves and glared at the pillar in front of her.

Mid to late 20s. Blue-green eyes. Small mole under left eye. Slim build. Expecting to give birth in May.

There were flyers posted on the pillars asking for her help.

Grace pushed up her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose and looked around. The old ladies chattering and the middle-aged man shuffling through documents as if he was going on a business trip were all uninterested in Grace.

"What the... what could this be?"

The young woman sitting across from me tilted her head as she read the leaflet, but she had no idea that I could ask the pregnant woman sitting on the same bench about the story.

This is why she wears expensive clothes and puts on flashy makeup. If she looks poor, it is easy to suspect that she is the woman in the leaflet. However, if she is a wealthy woman, she is far from the image of a missing person that usually comes to mind.